Introduction

by Epiphanius Wilson, A.M.

The great nation which dwelt in the seventh century before our era on
the banks of Tigris and Euphrates flourished in literature as well as in
the plastic arts, and had an alphabet of its own. The Assyrians sometimes
wrote with a sharp reed, for a pen, upon skins, wooden tablets, or papyrus
brought from Egypt. In this case they used cursive letters of a Phoenician
character. But when they wished to preserve their written documents, they
employed clay tablets, and a stylus whose bevelled point made an impression
like a narrow elongated wedge, or arrow-head. By a combination of these
wedges, letters and words were formed by the skilled and practised scribe,
who would thus rapidly turn off a vast amount of "copy." All works of history,
poetry, and law were thus written in the cuneiform or old Chaldean characters,
and on a substance which could withstand the ravages of time, fire, or
water. Hence we have authentic monuments of Assyrian literature in their
original form, unglossed, unaltered, and ungarbled, and in this respect
Chaldean records are actually superior to those of the Greeks, the Hebrews,
or the Romans. The literature of the Chaldeans is very varied in its forms.
The hymns to the gods form an important department, and were doubtless
employed in public worship. They are by no means lacking in sublimity of
expression, and while quite unmetrical they are proportioned and emphasized,
like Hebrew poetry, by means of parallelism. In other respects they resemble
the productions of Jewish psalmists, and yet they date as far back as the
third millennium before Christ. They seem to have been transcribed in the
shape in which we at present have them in the reign of Assurbanipal, who
was a great patron of letters, and in whose reign libraries were formed
in the principal cities. The Assyrian renaissance of the seventeenth century
B.C. witnessed great activity among scribes and book collectors: modern
scholars are deeply indebted to this golden age of letters in Babylonia
for many precious and imperishable monuments. It is, however, only within
recent years that these works of hoar antiquity have passed from the secluded
cell of the specialist and have come within reach of the general reader,
or even of the student of literature. For many centuries the cuneiform
writing was literally a dead letter to the learned world. The clue to the
understanding of this alphabet was originally discovered in 1850 by Colonel
Rawlinson, and described by him in a paper read before the Royal Society.
Hence the knowledge of Assyrian literature is, so far as Europe is concerned,
scarcely more than half a century old.

Among the most valuable of historic records to be found among the monuments
of any nation are inscriptions, set up on public buildings, in palaces,
and in temples. The Greek and Latin inscriptions discovered at various
points on the shores of the Mediterranean have been of priceless value
in determining certain questions of philology, as well as in throwing new
light on the events of history. Many secrets of language have been revealed,
many perplexities of history disentangled, by the words engraven on stone
or metal, which the scholar discovers amid the dust of ruined temples,
or on the cippus of a tomb. The form of one Greek letter, perhaps even
its existence, would never have been guessed but for its discovery in an
inscription. If inscriptions are of the highest critical importance and
historic interest, in languages which are represented by a voluminous and
familiar literature, how much more precious must they be when they record
what happened in the remotest dawn of history, surviving among the ruins
of a vast empire whose people have vanished from the face of the earth?

Hence the cuneiform inscriptions are of the utmost interest and value,
and present the greatest possible attractions to the curious and intelligent
reader. They record the deeds and conquests of mighty kings, the Napoleons
and Hannibals of primeval time. They throw a vivid light on the splendid
sculptures of Nineveh; they give a new interest to the pictures and carvings
that describe the building of cities, the marching to war, the battle,
by sea and land, of great monarchs whose horse and foot were as multitudinous
as the locusts that in Eastern literature are compared to them. Lovers
of the Bible will find in the Assyrian inscriptions many confirmations
of Scripture history, as well as many parallels to the account of the primitive
world in Genesis, and none can give even a cursory glance at these famous
remains without feeling his mental horizon widened. We are carried by this
writing on the walls of Assyrian towns far beyond the little world of the
recent centuries; we pass, as almost modern, the day when Julius Caesar
struggled in the surf of Kent against the painted savages of Britain. Nay,
the birth of Romulus and Remus is a recent event in comparison with records
of incidents in Assyrian national life, which occurred not only before
Moses lay cradled on the waters of an Egyptian canal, but before Egypt
had a single temple or pyramid, three millenniums before the very dawn
of history in the valley of the Nile.

But the interest of Assyrian Literature is not confined to hymns, or
even to inscriptions. A nameless poet has left in the imperishable tablets
of a Babylonian library an epic poem of great power and beauty. This is
the Epic of Izdubar.

At Dur-Sargina, the city where stood the palace of Assyrian monarchs
three thousand years ago, were two gigantic human figures, standing between
the winged bulls, carved in high relief, at the entrance of the royal residence.
These human figures are exactly alike, and represent the sarne personage
- a Colossus with swelling thews, and dressed in a robe of dignity. He
strangles a Iion by pressing it with brawny arm against his side, as if
it were no more than a cat. This figure is that of Izdubar, or Gisdubar,
the great central character of Assyrian poetry and sculpture, the theme
of minstrels, the typical hero of his land, the favored of the gods. What
is called the Epic of Izdubar relates the exploits of this hero, who was
born the son of a king in Ourouk of Chaldea. His father was dethroned by
the Elamites, and Izdubar was driven into the wilderness and became a mighty
hunter. In the half-peopled earth, so lately created, wild beasts had multiplied
and threatened the extermination of mankind. The hunter found himself at
war with monsters more formidable than even the lion or the wild bull.
There were half-human scorpions, bulls with the head of man, fierce satyrs
and winged griffins. Deadly war did Izdubat wage with them, till as his
period of exile drew near to a close he said to his mother, " I have dreamed
a dream; the stars rained from heaven upon me; then a creature, fierce-faced
and taloned like a lion, rose up against me, and I smote and slew him."

The dream was long in being fulfilled, but at last Izdubar was told
of a monstrous jinn, whose name was Heabani; his head was human but horned;
and he had the legs and tail of a bull, yet was he wisest of all upon earth.
Enticing him from his cave by sending two fair women to the entrance, Izdubar
took him captive and led him to Ourouk, where the jinn married one of the
women whose charms had allured him, and became henceforth the well-loved
servant of Izdubar. Then Izdubar slew the Elamite who had dethroned his
father, and put the royal diadem on his own head. And behold the goddess
Ishtar (Ashtaroth) cast her eyes upon the hero and wished to be his wife,
but he rejected her with scorn, reminding her of the fate of Tammuz, and
of Alala the Eagle, and of the shepherd Taboulon - all her husbands, and
all dead before their time. Thus, as the wrath of Juno pursued Paris, so
the hatred of this slighted goddess attends Izdubar through many adventures.
The last plague that torments him is leprosy, of which he is to be cured
by Khasisadra, son of Oubaratonton, last of the ten primeval kings of Chaldea.
Khasisadra, while still living, had been transported to Paradise, where
he yet abides. Here he is found by Izdubar, who listens to his account
of the Deluge, and learns from him the remedy for his disease. The afflicted
hero is destined, after being cured, to pass, without death, into the company
of the gods, and there to enjoy immortality. With this promise the work
concludes.

The great poem of Izdubar has but recently been known to European scholars,
having been discovered in 1871 by the eminent Assyriologist, Mr. George
Smith. It was probably written about 2000 B.C., though the extant edition,
which came from the library of King Assurbanipal in the palace at Dur-Sargina,
must bear the date of 600 B.C. The hero is supposed to be a solar personification,
and the epic is interesting to modern writers not only on account of its
description of the Deluge, but also for the pomp and dignity of its style,
and for its noble delineation of heroic character.

Last Update: 07/13/2001
Copyright (c) 2001 by Bruce J. Butterfield.
Reproduction for personal or classroom use is permitted.
Commercial reproduction requires prior permission from the author.